


Not Dead, Not an Orphan

by RenaRoo



Series: Cass Appreciation Prompts [35]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: Bruce and Cassandra have a very different dynamic, one seemingly neither completely understands.





	Not Dead, Not an Orphan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt ( anonymous ): Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Either 16 or 22 your choice
> 
> I decided to go for Post-Flashpoint | Prime Earth, going for 16. Not dead

The smoke was clearing around them, but that also meant that what cover they had from the rest of the surrounding Blackgate jailbreak was also lifting. Instinctively, Cassandra knew that her speed and shadows were her greater assets. That she should have already been on the move, getting a greater vantage point for herself. 

But that meant moving away from his side. That meant no longer guarding his back. 

Cassandra might have moved. But Orphan was watching Batman’s back. 

“Got this?” Batman asked her lowly. “Do you understand what we do next?” 

“Yes,” Orphan answered immediately, not even glancing back at him. 

“Your hood is more protective of your head. You should leave it up, like Spoiler and Robin,” he admonished her slightly, shifting left to face the largest of the escapees. 

“Can’t see as well,” she answered, shifting right to continue protecting his opened side. 

“And it’s all about how much you can see,” Batman said, almost allowing admiration in his voice. It was a warm sound that broke with the gruffness of his projected voice under the cowl. 

Flinching slightly, Cass took a deep breath. 

It _was_ about what she could see, about what she had seen _before._ It was about how a last breath looked when it filled a dying chest. It was about the fear – _terror –_ that erased even pain in a victim’s eyes. It was about how _nothing_ followed such horrors, it was about how _nothing_ undid those moments. 

“No,” Orphan answered.

Batman, for a moment, seemed ready to turn back and look at her, uncertain, but he didn’t have time to respond even if he was going to. Because Cassandra fell back on her instincts, and she _moved._

Once she moved, it was as if the terse silence of the escapees had also been broken and they began moving forward on the attack toward Batman and Orphan.

Even if she was not within arm’s reach of Batman, Cassandra still took to the task of protecting his back, prioritizing each and every inmate who attempted a bull rush of the more intimidating presence in the room.

She moved between them, every motion leading into the next, each kick a jumping point to keep her in motion toward the next assailant. 

“Orphan!” Batman’s voice called gruffly, but they were both already too far involved with their battles. Even as Cassandra worked her hardest to keep Batman’s entire flank covered. 

No breath was wasted, no muscle was exerted more than absolutely necessary. And once it all came to an end, she sent a final kick to the face of a criminal who stood outside of her perimeter, taking the hit before Batman could _think_ to make it.

Batman stood straight by that point, eyes focused on Cassandra rather than the combatants still around them. His cape was flourished over his shoulders, hiding the muscle beneath, as if the more they were exposed, the more secrets he was screaming out to Cassandra.

He wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t blind to his body language either.

“Mud Room Offline,” he ordered. 

Knowing the familiarity of those words, Cassandra stood straight, looking to Batman as the world, the simulation and its people, disappeared around them. 

“You and I are supposed to be working on our teamwork and communication skills through these drills,” he reminded her somewhat testily. “That does not mean you take everything on by yourself. It _never_ means that.”

Blinking, Cassandra crossed her arms and hugged herself. “Okay,” she said simply.

While Batman continued to hesitate, to search for words as if he struggled with them _nearly_ as much as Cassandra did, she turned around to make her way for the exit. Exercise was over, and there was a smile on her face as she walked out of the room, passing Batwoman as she entered. 

“You were watching,” Batman said to Batwoman. 

“Yeah, you _weren’t,”_ Batwoman replied pointedly, looking back for Cassandra to be completely gone from sight. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Batman asked back. 

“You’ve said it yourself, Cassandra doesn’t communicate in words, she communicates with motion,” Batwoman answered, heading back for the door herself. “She danced circles around you, Bruce. And her body language was screaming – the only thing she cares about in the _world_ right now is that you’re _not dead.”_ Batwoman stopped and gave him a knowing look. “I’m thinking it’s time for _Bruce_ to tell _Cassandra_ that he’ll be much happier seeing her _living_ instead of continuing on with this macabre worrying.”

Batman didn’t respond and Batwoman shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get Batgirl. Seems like a sentiment she’d be able to understand.”

Starring after his cousin, Batman seemed to be waiting, so Orphan revealed she was hidden just beyond the shadows listening in, a small but worried smile on her face as she shrugged. 

Batwoman might have been gone, but that also might have been the only reason Batman gave his own soft smile and pulled his hand out from under his cape, revealing two tickets to the Gotham Performance Hall. 

And Cassandra felt her chest swell in ways it never had before. The Orphan, for a moment, felt more distant from that title than she ever had before.


End file.
